


Hanukkah Socks

by cowboykylux



Category: Marriage Story (2019)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hanukkah, Holidays, Jewish Holidays, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Divorce, jewish!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: The very first night of your very first Hanukkah together with Charlie as a real couple, a real family.
Relationships: Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You
Kudos: 3





	Hanukkah Socks

“If you hate them, tell me.” Charlie tells you immediately after you’ve opened your eyes for the morning.

You’ve moved into his house, are sleeping in his bed, and it thrills you because you don’t have to hide anything anymore. You’re there, with him, and you don’t have to sneak out of the house before Henry wakes up, before the world wakes up and sees you with your walk of shame. There’s no more walks like that anymore, the only walks you have with Charlie are the ones hand-in-hand down the street.

It’s all over, and you can be together, and now, now you finally are.

“Hm?” You ask, stretching, needing a moment to wake up officially.

He’s impatient though, already pushing a small blue box wrapped in silver ribbon across the mattress into your hands. You ruck the covers up to cover your chest as you sit up against the headboard, a big adoring smile gracing your lips.

Charlie reaches up from where he’s still laying down, right at your side, and tucks some of your sleep-wrecked hair behind your ear so he can see your face.

“Oh Charlie.” You lean down to kiss him, holding the small box in your hands and giving it a playful shake to try and figure out what’s inside before tracing your finger over his lip and saying, “We can’t open anything until after we light the candles.”

“Open it anyway.” Charlie shakes his head, and you really don’t need to be told twice, giggling happily to yourself as you un-tie the carefully made bow and opening the box, all the while Charlie rambling on and on, “I’m sorry if it’s stupid, I was googling for ideas and I found them and they made me think of you and fuck now I’m pretty sure it’s stupid but – ”

“They’re perfect.” You gasp, a bright laugh filling the bedroom as you lift the fluffy fuzzy socks out of the box, hold them up into the light so you can see them properly.

They’re blue and soft with a pattern of little dreidels in all sorts of colors woven into the fabric. A practical yet sentimental and truly sweet present – exactly the sort of thing you’re supposed to give for the holiday.

You lean down again to kiss him, and he pulls you fully on top of him, the covers falling away, your bare bodies pressing together as the kiss deepens into something less chaste, less innocent. The world may be cold and snowy outside but here in the bedroom it’s warm and comforting, safe and quiet, the only sounds are your soft moans and heavy breathing as his hands roam all over your body.

“I hoped you’d like them. You’re always pressing your cold feet against my legs.” He grins against your lips, stealing kiss after kiss, giddy and free that he can have you finally, forever. 

“Hey.” You pinch his side playfully, before rolling over and admiring the socks once more. “They’re perfect, really, thank you.”

“Anything for you.” Charlie says, smooching your cheek as he stands up and stretches, walks into the bathroom to take care of his morning routine.

“Can I wear them now?” You ask, already putting them on your feet, smiling when they’re a perfect fit.

“No.” Charlie says, but you know he doesn’t mean it.

When he comes back from the bathroom he kisses you again, sighs against your lips happily, content that he didn’t fuck it up. He had never been the best gift giver, but he was so glad to try, willing to try so hard for you.

“Happy Hanukkah, (Y/N).” He says, holding your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles there.

“To the first of many.” You reply, and there’s something about the thought that there would be so much more to come has both of you crawling back into bed.

At least, until Henry wakes up, that is, and the three of you can celebrate and forge new traditions together.


End file.
